Part 36 (1/2)

Frederica hesitated, but only a moment.

”You were reading,” said she.

”I was waiting for you, and now we must hasten, for the best of the afternoon is pa.s.sing.”

They did not meet the carriage, though they went a long way round, hoping to do so. Frederica was not sorry: she never forgot that walk home in the twilight. As it grew dark she put her hand into that of her friend, as simply as a little child might have done, and for a while she had most of the talk to herself. She told him more than she had ever told any one before about their mother, and their old home and their way of life; and sometimes he smiled, and sometimes he was deeply touched, as she dwelt with quite unconscious pathos on some of the incidents of those days. Her face clouded as they drew near the house.

”I am almost afraid to go in,” said she.

”Lest you should be naughty again? No, you will not,” said her friend.

”See, I will give you something to prevent it: 'Thou shalt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusteth in Thee.'”

”Thank you,” said Frederica, without looking up. ”A month is a long time, two months perhaps.”

”But it will soon pa.s.s, and summer will soon be here, and who knows what summer may bring?”

”And this afternoon has not been so bad,” said Frederica.

No time after that was so very bad. Frederica kept herself conscientiously busy for one thing, and she kept Tessie busy also.

Their friends made pleasures for them. They had walks with Captain Clare which were always delightful, and drives with their sister Cecilia, and one day they went with them to visit their brothers, whose school was not so very far away, and this they enjoyed wonderfully.

Frederica, who had had few letters in the course of her life, took great delight in those of her brother Edgar. Besides bringing good news of her sister's health and happiness, they were full of interest for other reasons, and they never failed to contain just a word or two to remind the sisters at home that all were alike safe in the best keeping.

And better than all other helps towards patience and content was the young girl's trust in Him who had brought them to a safe place. On Him she was learning to rest more lovingly every day. She suffered a good deal at first; but peace came and stayed, not quite the perfect peace promised to them whose trust is entire and full, but even that came later.

Tessie watched her sister narrowly, and expressed her opinion of her way of taking it all by little shrugs and laughing protests, in which Frederica sometimes fancied there was a contemptuous echo. But Tessie was subdued at last by her sister's never-failing gentleness and sweetness, and showed it by devotion to her duties, and by deference to her sister's wishes in little things.

The time of Selina's absence extended beyond what was first planned.

But this was not so great a trial as it seemed beforehand Spring pa.s.sed into summer before a word was said of their going home, and the time came to leave hot and dusty London, and to return to Eastwood Park again, and the sisters went gladly, though they had no thought of the joyful surprise awaiting them there.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

If Eastwood had been beautiful to the eyes of the sisters when seen under Christmas skies, what was it now in the prime of summer? The pony carriage awaited them at the station, and in it they drove to the Park the nearest way through the loveliest lanes, in the hedges of which Tessie counted nearly a score of different green growing things besides honeysuckle and foxgloves and bluebells and many a flower that she could not name. How wide and still the Park was, with only green gra.s.s and great trees to see at first, and by-and-by shrubbery, and then flowers, and then the house itself came in sight. There were open doors and windows, and people coming and going over the lawn, and Grandmamma Bentham sitting in a garden chair, in full sight of the gate.

Some one was coming to meet them, as the carriage stopped at the east gate, and they came in. Some one! There were many people. Colonel Bentham was there, and Captain Clare, and Everard, and their brothers Charlie and Hubert. But ”some one” was Selina, not led by Miss Agnace, as might have seemed natural, not led by any one, though Everard Bentham walked at a little distance from her, regarding her with the strangest wondering smile upon his face. Their brother Edgar was there too, a little in advance of the rest. But Selina walked alone, and came forward to them, holding her hand a little out before her, as she always used to do, walking softly and slowly to the very gate, for Frederica stood still and waited. Tessie waited too a moment, and then sprang forward with a cry.

”Selina! Do you see me? Oh! Fred. Oh! mama! mama?”

And then she clasped and kissed her, clinging to her, and sobbing wildly, moved as no one had ever seen the sharp little Tessie moved before.

”Gently, Tessie love,” said her guardian, putting his arms about her, and drawing her aside from the rest. Frederica stood still and white at the gate, so still and white that her brother Edgar drawing near looked anxiously at her. But she only looked at Selina, who paused at a little distance.

”Frederica,” she said, ”I can see you.”

Then Frederica awoke out of her dream; but before she sprang forward to clasp her sister, she turned and kissed the hand her brother had laid on her shoulder. She did not cry out as Tessie had done, nor speak a word, but she held her sister's hand firmly as they walked towards the house, looking at her with eyes in which the wonder hardly left room for the pleasure to appear.

The meeting had not happened just as their elder brother had desired and planned. He had meant to prepare his sisters for the happy change in Selina, but perhaps it happened just as well. They were left very much to themselves for the rest of the day; and as their way was at such times, they talked in their mother tongue fast and eagerly. That is, Tessie and the little brothers talked, and Selina also, who had much to tell them, though she told it in few words. The beginning and the end of all was her brother Edgar's kindness to her during the time she had been away.

As to how it all came about--how through the wonderful skill, and unfailing gentle care of her brother's friend, and of her brother as well, the blessed gift of sight was restored to her, need not be told here. The sweet blue eyes looked just as they had always looked, but there was light in them now. Her face was changed. It was not so peaceful and serener--it could hardly be brighter than it used to be.

But it had an expectant look, and its expression varied every moment.